Harry Pottergeist
by NyghtWalker
Summary: Dumbleodore was confident in the blood wards that protected Harry Potter. He didn't think that Harry would ever be hurt in the same house that was to protect him or that the Dursleys could go so far when it came to abusing a child. What happens when a little lost soul wanders into Hogwarts? Regretful!Dumbledore.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! I have a new story for all of you. I hope you like it!

This story is very dark, but also has its moments of fun and adventure.

Please tell me what you think. This story will be the next one to join my Harry Potter ones.

Please review and follow.

*I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters*

Chapter: 1

September 1, 1987

Professor Dumbledore sighed as he looked to the list of names attending Hogwarts. The list was bigger than it was last year. He was quite glad knowing that more youthful minds would come to the school to seek knowledge that they would carry through their lives.

Less and less families feared what could happen to their children at school. The numbers of attendance got bigger as more time pasted since the end of the war. It made the old man happy.

He didn't want people to fear Hogwarts. It was a place of learning.

The aged wizard thought about the magnificent castle school he ran. Full of wizards in training that would shape the future of the wizarding world. The new students, pureblood to muggleborn, that would enter as inexperienced children, and exit as young adults that would become a part of the Wizarding society.

And while there was some house rivalry, the students were free from prosecution and were safe to learn magic as they pleased

And it was all thanks to Harry Potter.

Since the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort or as he is called 'You-Know-Who', the wizarding war had ended and people celebrated their savior, announcing the fifteen month child as the boy-who-lived.

Almost everyone cheered for the monster's death. Many lives would be spared from his persecution and would be able to live happily.

But sadly, the victory of the Dark Lord's defeat was not without cost.

'That poor child lost everything that night.' Dumbledore thought sadly. The parents of Harry Potter did not make it through that faithful night. Three people died that night and one was thrown in prison because of it.

The death and betrayal of every student weighed heavy on his heart.

Lily, James, and Peter all died because of the betrayal that none of them had seen coming. Despite his hatred for the Black family, Sirius followed in their footsteps. He led Voldemort right to the unsuspecting family then went off and killed his other childhood friend Peter.

All these events led to a poor child being orphaned at such a young age. The thought burned in Dumbledore's heart about his failure. Failure as a headmaster and as a friend to those who needed him.

He just hoped that Harry would be able to forgive him for what happened.

Now the child lived with his muggle family. They were not the best people for the job, but the blood wards kept Harry Safe from anyone after his life.

'Speaking of which, I have not received any mail about Harry from Ms Figg in a few weeks.' He thought to himself.

The last report he received stated that Harry's relatives were perhaps not treating him right. Figg claimed that Harry looked skinny and was cleaning more often than his cousin.

Dumbledore would have checked out the situation, but he had been busy preparing for the new year. That, and the wards showed that a strong emotion bond was held between Petunia and Harry, so he didn't believe there was any problem.

'Perhaps I will check on Harry after the sorting ceremony. It wouldn't do to have Figg overreacting about something that can be fixed with a visit to the Dursleys' Albus thought genially.

Albus Dumbledore then stood up from his chair and left his office, knowing that all the new students would be entering the school in a few moments. He would make sure to be there presentably when all the 1st years entered the great hall.

He strolled out of his room, throwing a lemon drop into his mouth with a smile.

Despite his knowledge, there was one thing that Dumbledore didn't account for. An emotional bond was not always positive. It didn't have to be love, it could be something much worse.

As the door closed on the room, Dumbledore wouldn't notice how the ward monitor for Privet Drive began to sputter. The little trinket that lay on his desk flickered for a few moments before becoming completely silent and immobile.

The wards that protected the boy-who-lived home had fallen.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

A flash passed through the trees of the forbidden forest. A whiz of blue haze moved through the trees, hoping to not be seen by anything or anyone.

It just wanted to keep moving and never look back. It was terrified of the thought of being caught. The little haze thought it could find a place to escape.

It was scared and confused. It didn't want to be hurt.

It moved with haste and trepidation, trying to find a place to hide.

Then it did. A giant castle in the middle of nowhere.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Dumbledore stared at the collection of new students coming in the great hall doors.

This was why he loved being a teacher, now headmaster. Seeing their awe-inspired faces looking upon the magic that saturated all of the beautiful castle with him with warmth.

He could feel Hogwarts' magic fill with joy at the prospect of having new students walking around within it.

Hogwarts was not just a castle. Years of magic are imbued inside every brick and tile the it is made up of. It's as if it's alive.

And right now it is enjoying the prospect of taking care of the next line of 1st years.

The group of first years walked forward and looked up at Dumbledore with wonder and excitement. He genial smiled back and could tell he had a good bunch this year.

Before he could even say a word, he felt something pass through the wards of Hogwarts. It was small and didn't feel like a person. Most likely a magical creature of some sort like a baby centaur.

He brushed it off for now. He would investigate what it was after the sorting.

"Welcome everyone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

The blue haze found itself in front of a beautiful castle. It looked at the giant stone keep with amazement.

It had never seen a castle before. It had never been allowed to see or do anything fun.

Shaking these thought away, it ran to the castle and found itself at the door of the castle.

If you looked closely, the blue haze became clearer as time passed, now looking more like what it was before. Before its death.

A little boy.

The child passed right through the door of the giant wooden door and lay witness to something amazing.

People, floating people were floating around. Their appearance a light blue in color and transparent.

He wanted to talk to them. They were just like him. Maybe they could help him.

But at the same time, he didn't want to be caught. He was afraid of what they could do to him. If they were like him, then they could hurt him too.

So he ran behind a wall and moved carefully, discovering more amazing things as he looked around. Talking paintings, shifting stairs, and a strange energy that could be felt from the very walls he was hiding in.

He wanted to see it all, but was too afraid of being seen. He didn't want to be hurt. Not again.

These blue people that moved around the castle were like him, so they could probably do to him what his family did.

He moved around some more, seeing more of the moving paintings and amazing things that were out of this world. The child made sure to be hidden in object or the walls so nobody would see him.

He felt like he was in a dream. It was so beautiful in here. He felt as though he never wanted to leave.

But he knew it wouldn't last. After all, dreams never did.

Then his ears picked up something. A voice that bellowed from a room down the hall from where he was.

He waited for a moment then heard another bellow from the same room.

His child curiosity got the better of him and he moved carefully in the walls, as to not be seen by anything, and poked his head out to see a giant room.

This magnificent room was filled with people. Some of them were wearing green or blue while others were dressed in red or yellow.

At the end of the room he saw a man place a hat on a student. There was a slight pause before the hat somehow screamed out Raven-something. He watched with enraptured focus as the hat went through every person at the front of the room.

He didn't notice something creeping up on where his head stuck out.

As the last person was finished with the strange hat and walked to a table, a weird looking bearded man stood up.

Before the child could here anything from the strange man, he heard someone else.

"Well, what do we have here? Are you alright child?" The tiny transparent boy hesitantly looked up to see a man. A nearly headless man looking at him with a smile, though it was upside down from his perspective.

Before the headless man could say anything else, the boy dashed away.

He had been caught! He was going to be punished! He didn't want to be hurt anymore.

He made a break for it.

He headed for the way he came in but saw more blue people.

Moving quick, he moved into the hall, avoiding the headless man.

He floated by people, knowing that they couldn't see him. They were just like everyone else after all.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

"You are now all students of Hogwarts. I hope you all get adjusted to your new houses. Remember to ask your head of house any questions that you might have about the new year. Now let the feast..." Everyone, teachers included, wondered why Dumbledore suddenly stopped the yearly introduction. This had never happened before.

Eventually they noticed that he was looking at something. Something moving towards the front of the Great Hall with Nearly Headless Nick following but not being able to keep up with such a fast target.

Everyone's eyes began to follow the blur that was speeding by. Some where thinking it may be a ghost, but it was moving quite fast. They had never seem a ghost move so quickly.

The tiny blue haze did not move much further though, as it found itself being hit with a knockback hex, courtesy of the now standing Severus Snape.

Severus still had his wand pointed at the ghost child, obviously prepared to dispose of it when need be.

Now that it was not moving so quickly, people could start to make out features.

It was a child. A tiny boy from the looks of it. He didn't look a few days over six or seven.

He was wearing crooked broken glasses, baggy ripped up clothing that would fit a giant, making him seem that much smaller in comparison, and shoes that were basically made up of tape.

Overall, the child ghost looked pitiful and terrified. The boy began to look around frantically with fright at all the students gazing at him. It was as if he didn't expect people to see him.

The professors and older years had to hold back their gasps at the age of the ghost. Wizards only became ghost if they died unjustly or too early. That could only mean one thing:

This poor boy died so young.

Judging by how the child looked, he didn't deserve what happened to him.

"Severus. Please put your wand down before you scare the poor thing even more." Said Dumbledore.

The man hissed at the headmaster before placing his wand back into his sleeve.

Dumbledore slowly stepped forward towards the scared ghostly child, who was still looking around at all the people who were looking at him.

'Perhaps he did not know wizards can see magical entities such as ghost. It would explain the poor boy's shock.' Thought the old man.

"Hello dear child." He began, getting the attention of the child.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

The boy was scared. From the way things looked, everyone could see him. He had been going so fast that he didn't see whatever had hit him knocked him back.

When he fell on the floor, he saw all the people he was passing were actually kids. They were all older than him, but kids nonetheless.

And they were looking at him!

He just wanted to curl into a ball and hide. If they could see him then they could hurt him. He didn't want to be hurt anymore.

More of the blue pale people were surrounding him too. One looked like he was covered in blood, while the other next to him was a lady that had no see-able neck.

He just hoped that it would be over quickly. The quicker the pain, the faster it passed.

"Hello dear child." The boy looked up to see an old man with a long beard and twinkling eyes.

He understood what was going to come next.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

"Please don't hurt me." whispered the tiny child. "I don't want to be hurt anymore." he begged pitifully.

Dumbledore's old heart clenched at the words. It was obvious that someone had hurt this child before his death.

Or perhaps led to his death.

He brushed those thoughts away. It wouldn't do to assume something that may have never happened.

"I will not hurt you my child. You are safe."

The child didn't seem to trust Dumbledore's words, as he then curled up into a little ball. "I don't want to be hurt anymore. Please...please just leave me alone. I don't wanna be hurt no more...no more...please." The child whispered into his own arms.

Everyone was completely silent. This poor child must have been through some terrible hardships, that much was clear to most of the students and teachers at Hogwarts.

"You will not be hurt here." Dumbledore kindly stated. "You will never be hurt at Hogwarts. This is a school for learning, not for violence."

That seemed to work a little bit, but the child was still not looking very convinced about his safety.

"Do you have a name?" Dumbledore asked, hoping to change his strategy and learn about the child's origins. The more he knew about the child ghost, the better. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

The child looked down once more, back to his taped up ghostly shoes. "I-I don't have a name." The tiny child said softly.

"Well, there must be something that your family called you when you were at home. Can you please tell me." Dumbledore asked.

Everyone in the room edged a little closer, hoping to get as much detail about the conversation as possible.

The child was looking at his feet, still on the ground in a tight ball. The professors, except Snape, wanted to comfort the scared child.

Then they all heard a mutter. Nobody, not even Dumbledore, who stood close by, could not hear the child.

"Could you say that again please. I'm sorry, but I did not here you."

There was a pause of silence, everyone wanting to hear the words of the child.

"M-my name..." the child began. "My n-name is f-freak."

Everyone that heard the slightly louder whisper began to whisper to everyone epse about the poor child's name.

Some of them understood what it meant to be called a freak or unnatural. To muggles, wizards and magic were different. It was strange to the non magical world.

Dumbledore looked at the child with sadness. "Do you perhaps have a different name my child?"

The small boy cowered a little bit. "I-I'm not allowed to use it outside school. I-I'll be punished if I do."

Dumbledore smiled comfortingly at the boy. "Well you're in luck. This room is part of the school, so you won't be breaking any rules. You will not be punished for saying your name."

The child hesitantly looked around for a quick moment. After a two minute silence the child finally gathered up some courage.

"O-okay. I'll tell you. J-just please don't tell Uncle." The boy pleaded.

everyone looked in shock. This boy's uncle treated him so such a degree? He wasn't even allowed to use his name outside of school.

Some of the teachers were ready to find out who the child's relatives were so they could avenge the poor boy.

While they didn't know if his family killed him, it was obvious that they didn't treat him right.

"I'll not tell your uncle my dear boy." Dumbledore stated, feeling the same way some of his fellow professors felt.

The bespectacled child looked up at the bearded man. "M-My name is Harry. H-Harry Potter."

(End Chapter)

Oooooo! The reveal. I hope you liked it.

Don't forget to follow or review!

Please give me any ideas that you have for the story.

The idea came to me in the middle of the night, so I had to write it.

Until next time, See ya!


	2. Chapter 2

I hope you liked the first chapter, because I will try to continue the story.

Now, this story has gotten several followers already, which I was surprised by. I hope you continue to read the story and like what I have to offer next!

Please Follow and Review if you like Harry Pottergeist.

*I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters*

 **A few moments ago.**

Tears fell down his face as he stared in horror. His young mind couldn't fathom what he lay witness to. It was like a terrible nightmare that had come true. Like looking at his own reflection. Except it was truly him.

He didn't know why this happened to him. He had been cleaning the house spotless... again. The walls and floors shined and the windows were glossed and immaculate. Tables were fixed perfectly and the kitchen was spotless.

A beautiful dinner was almost finished, the pot roast fully cooked. Mashed potatoes and gravy streaming and made to perfection. Hash and beans prepared for the family to eat. The aroma of the meal would attract any person, hungry or full.

All of it set and ready on the table.

But there was no chair to sit at for the one who cooked it. He was used to it.

He thought he did a good job though. He thought he might actually be allowed to eat today, unlike yesterday, when he made a small mistake on the chicken.

Even his Aunt seemed impress by the meal, but she refused to give him any praise or acknowledgement for his hard work.

Then his Uncle came home. And he was not happy.

Before his Uncle even looked at the perfect meal, he was on the ground, being throttled and beaten for something he couldn't understand. Some words popped out like 'fired' and 'your fault'. The rest was covered by the impacts of large fists on a small body.

Poor Harry Potter didn't understand any of it. He didn't know what he had done wrong, but in the end it didn't matter.

He was just a freak.

All he felt was pain. The cracking of his own bones under fat and meaty fists. The occasional stomp knocked the wind out of his lungs.

It was too much for his little frame. Everything hurt. He felt warm liquid run down his mouth and head.

He couldn't stop the tears from falling. Since he was brought in to his Aunt's house he had never been allowed to cry. It usually brought worse punishments. And here was, breaking the rules because he couldn't keep them in.

But he couldn't help it. His Uncle usually stopped before he was hurt too badly. But the whale of a man didn't let up this time. He was too mad to stop. The pain was more unbearable then he had ever felt in his short life.

Then he felt nothing. It was like it all stopped. No pain. No throbbing. No black eyes. Nothing.

He felt like he was on air. There was no feeling of the constant hunger, no soreness from his aching hands after a hard day's work. The previous welts on his back didn't sting. It was all gone.

He looked around, wondering what happened. His uncle walked away, still muttering about having him clean up the new mess after eating. Harry got up and walked to the kitchen, knowing he would have to clean up the mess that was sure to come. He still hadn't finished all the dishes.

Going over to the counter, he went to pick up a pan, only for his hand to go right through it. He stepped back in fear, wondering if he was doing something freakish again.

He took notice of his hand and stared in horror. It was blue, like a shade of the sky, and he could see right through it at the floor.

He found himself on the floor, only for the realization of him not being able to feel it underneath his feet to set in.

He didn't know what was going on. He just wanted to finish his chores so he wouldn't get beaten again. He didn't know why he didn't feel hurt at the moment, but if his uncle found out, he would only get angrier.

He felt a tingle at his back. Before he could even turn around, Aunt Petunia walked past, no, through him to the sink.

"That damned freak forgot to finish the dishes." She muttered.

Harry backed away as she walked right through him again, as if he wasn't there.

He ran back to where he was beaten, wondering if something had happened during the thrashing, but something was there.

His found himself looking at his own face, tears falling down his transparent cheeks.

It was at this moment that Harry Potter knew he was no longer alive.

So terrified by the revelation, the boy ran, leaving behind his own body to the cupboard under the stairs that he lived in for four years.

He was a ghost of his former self.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Harry moved down the streets, still unable to feel the ground underneath him.

He jumped off the sidewalk to touch down on the asphalt, only for him to remain floating in the air!

If he wasn't so scared at the moment, he would have found the experience amazing.

He found that he didn't have to move his feet as he moved, instead he now floated down the streets as quickly as he possible could.

He crossed the street once more, only for a flash of light to hit him halfway through. He turned his head to see a car driving right at him. Tensing up his arms and legs, he curled up and closed his eyes.

But no pain came, only a familiar tingle. As soon as he saw it, the light from the car was already past him. He remained unmoving, but peaked up to see the car was no longer there.

The revving of an engine from behind him forced him to turn ad see the same car now driving off. It went right through him, just like everything else.

Cars, pans, and even people! Nothing could touch him. He couldn't feel anything from them other than the sensation as they passed through him.

He didn't understand. He was scared and confused. He darted around frantically. He saw a man walking down the streets.

Going right in front of the man, begging for help, he familiar sensation coasted through his body once more. The steps of the man passed behind him.

He curled in on himself. Nobody could help him, but then again, nobody ever did. He was a freak. He was doing freakish things again, and once this nightmare was over, he was sure that his Uncle was going to hurt him again.

He didn't want to leave him home, but he wanted to hide, to get away.

To be safe.

The crack of a gun sounded through the air and Harry jolted up, only to stare around himself in horror. Gone was the streets of privet drive. Now, he was in a forest of some kind. It didn't see very welcoming either. The skies were dark, no longer illuminated by the street lamps. The trees were tall and dark, making the area seem that much more scary to the ghost.

The hissing from behind him jolted him up from his frantic searching and he took off, wondering if there was a place for him to hide away. Away from everything. From the pain and confusion that reaped his little frame.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

 **Present**

Everyone stared in horror, but none more than the headmaster that was none two feet from the child.

Harry Potter, their savior and protector, the one that defeated he-who-must-not-be-named. The boy-who-lived.

A tiny pitiful ghost.

The whispering grew around Harry, many began to point and gawk at the small hazy figure. Harry backed away, wanting to get away from the talking and pointing. They were going to hurt him. They would use those sticks and lights to push him around.

People wanted to scream with outrage, about how it wasn't true, or that the boy was a liar, but the argument died as soon as they took a good look at how damaged the little spirit was.

Small and frail, as if he hadn't had a good meal in his whole life. Terrible clothing and an appalling lack of care. No, this boy suffered quite enough.

Albus Dumbledore pulsed his magic around the room, which cause everyone to silence and the candles to flicker. Harry felt the strange energy and moved away from the long bearded man.

"My dear boy." Albus asked with a tear sliding down his cheek. "Is that your true name?" He knew he shouldn't ask something to such a tortured person, but he was in just as much denial as everyone else.

He couldn't believe it. The boy he swore to protect was right here, and looked so miserable and broken. It was his fault. All of it.

He had to check in with the Dursleys. Immediately.

"D-Do you not want t-that t-to be m-my name? Y-You can call me fr-freak." Harry moved a bit further from the headmaster. Dumbledore shook his head at the poor boy.

"No. That is your name. You are allowed to use it here as much as you like." Dumbledore moved slowly, as to not startle the child and turned to Minvera. "Professor McGonagall, could you please take young Mr Potter to my office?" The frozen teacher pulled herself out of her shock and nodded her head curtly. She gave Albus a look of death and he hoped that she wasn't right about those muggles.

 _'They're the worse sort of muggles I've ever seen Albus.'_

Whispers began build around the room. People muttering about Harry Potter's death, some of them claiming it was death eaters out for revenge, others saying he was tortured. One student claimed it could be his family, but his friends brushed it off.

I mean, Albus Dumbledore said he placed Harry with a good family. That could never happen.

McGonagall walked up to Harry and went to kneel down to his level. "Hello Harry." The boy flinched back, obviously expecting some sort of attack. She bit the inside of her lip and gave the boy a smile. "I won't hurt you, dear. I'm here to help you. If you can, would you please follow me."

Harry curled in on himself, but nodded. She could probably hurt him, like that dark haired man did with the stick. He didn't want to say no and be hurt.

The two made their way out of the hall, the doors closing softly as they exited.

As soon as it did, everyone exploded into conversation about what just happened.

The first years were gossiping about Harry Potter, and how he was a ghost, thinking it was so cool.

However, the most informed students knew why their savior was that way. The Gryffindor table yelled to each other and at Dumbledore about what happened, and if that boy really was Harry Potter.

The Ravenclaws were conversing with one another about whether the ghost was Harry, and were trying to connect the dots about everything they knew about the boy-who-lived. One even mentioned that Harry may have died on one of his adventures like in the books, but it was cast aside. Harry didn't look at all like the little adventurer they believed he was.

No, that poor soul was hurt and damaged.

The Hufflepuffs were crying or worrying about the tiny child that died to early, one of the prefects running up to Professor Sprout to comfort the distressed teacher. They knew how much their head of house hated child abuse.

The Slytherins were a bit split. Some were thanking the stars that the boy was dead, while others were a bit empathetic to him. To die and come back as a ghost means they decided to stick around in the world of the living, or they died too early and were damaged in some way that didn't allow the soul to pass on.

There were a few students that would prepare to contact their connections. Some in the ministry and others in the media. Everyone was going to hear about this.

Albus spelled the food to appear on all the tables without another word, but most of the students too enveloped in gossip to even notice.

"Attention!" He yelled with a sonorous charm. "I will be looking into this and making sure that Harry Potter is indeed alive. I trust all of you to listen to your head of houses. Gryffindors, I leave you in the stead of Professor Flitwick, as your head of house is preoccupied." The headmaster ran to the great hall doors and spelled them to open as he passed students.

"I shall return shortly." The door slammed shut behind him as he exited, only making the gossip grow that much more.

The house heads couldn't hold back the onslaught of questions.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

"Here we are Mr Potter, this is the headmaster's office." Harry looked up nervously at the Professor.

"A-am I being punished?" Harry cowered.

"Of course not, dear child. Why would you think that?" Harry looked down at his feet and curled in.

"Whenever I-I'm sent to the headmaster's office, I-I get sent to m-my cupboard for a-a few days." Minerva's eyes widened, but she covered it and gave the boy a gentle smile.

"You will not be punished, dear boy. Nobody will ever hurt you again. I promise." Harry looked up at her with wonder. Nobody ever promised they wouldn't hurt him.

Minerva pulled out her wand, but Harry flinched back and curled into a ball. Minerva was confused by the action until she realized what happened from earlier.

'Good work you dungeon bat. Harry's first experience with wands was terrible because of you, and now he'll be afraid of them.'

"Harry, this is a wand. It is a magical focus that-"

"Magic?" Harry realized that he had just interrupted her and covered his head. Minerva knew the action and her anger only increased. Not only for the muggles she suspected that caused this, but to Albus as well.

"I will not harm you for interrupting me Mr Potter. You are safe." Harry looked up at her and didn't know whether to believe that word or not.

Safe.

"Now, this wand allows me to use magic and do many extraordinary things, such as this. Wingardium Leviosa"." She pointed the wand at a nearby book desk and let Harry's eyes observe as the small table floated into the air, as if weightless.

Using her magic, she had it float back down and looked at Harry, who gave her a socked expression.

"You're a freak too." Minerva shook her head and kneeled down once more to the frightened boys level.

"I am not a freak Harry, and neither are you. I have magic and so do you. There is nothing wrong with having such a gift." Harry shook his head frantically.

"B-but Aunt Petunia s-said that freaks d-do freakish things." Minerva smiled at the child.

"Well, it's a good thing you don't do anything freakish then. Magic is not freakish, and anything you do here will never be. Do you understand Harry?"

Harry nodded and looked at the professor with confusion and questions stirring in his head. He didn't want to refute her, but his mind always told him he was freakish. Everything strange about him was freakish. It was why he was hurt all the time.

Meanwhile, Minerva was thinking along the lines of how to skin a certain long necked muggle woman and her obese husband.

(End Chapter)

I know it's a bit of a weird ending, but I hope you liked it.

It's a bit hard to write something like this, but I have several ideas about how this could go.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time, see ya!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello readers, I do hope you have been enjoying this story, but I have some news.

I know this is a bit sudden, but it's very hard to write this story. It has a good idea, but to carry the plot would be very difficult.

If Harry was more comedic, then it could be better because he could be like a new peeves, but since he's been heavily abused, I don't believe it would be write of me to just make him a prankster all of a sudden.

I will try to continue writing this story, but I'm running thin on ideas.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, as it explains what happened and we get to see some more of the effects of Harry's death.

Without further ado, lets get on with it.

*I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters*

Chapter 3: The Truth

Albus Dumbledore appeared at Privet Drive with a crack of apparation, not caring about if someone heard the gunshot like sound. The aged wizard made his way down the street to the 4th home with speed and haste.

He hoped, no, it couldn't be true. He trusted Petunia with her nephew because he believed she had a good heart. Yes she disliked magic, but that didn't mean she would hurt him, let alone kill him.

Family was important in Albus's heart. With a good family and love, nothing could beat you. That's why he preferred to have the Dursleys raise Harry over anyone else.

Making his way to the home, he knocked on the front door and waited impatiently. His leg was shaking and his hands were tightening, trying to relieve some of the tension he had built up inside.

The door opened and he was met with a giant of a man staring at him with wide eyes.

Ahh, so this was Vernon Dursley.

"Good evening Mr Dur-" The door was slammed on his face, the lock sounding a second after.

Albus was not in the mood for this. He was already on edge, and he needed to confirm Harry was safe and not the ghost that was in Hogwarts.

Using his wand, he cast an alohomora on the door, allowing him inside the home.

Walking in, he found that the home was... clean.

It was extremely clean. He couldn't spot dust anywhere. The couch in the living room was pristine, though covered in plastic, and the windows and floors shined.

It was a beautiful home. Petunia must work so hard to make sure her family lives in comfort.

"You damn freak! What are you doing in my home!" He turned and smiled at the accuser. "Hello Mrs Dursley, how are you today?"

"I want you out of my house NOW!"

He caught that right beside her was her husband holding a muggle gun of some sort. Flicking his wand under his robe's loose sleeve, he wordlessly cast a jinx on the weapon. It wouldn't do to die right now.

"I just came to check up on young Harry if that's not a problem." He saw the fear in their eyes spike up.

"He.. He's at a friend's house, now leave!" The fat man came out and pointed the gun right at his head. He could see it in Mr Dursley's eyes. Worry and hesitation.

He knew he shouldn't, but he was stripped for time already. Besides, it wasn't illegal to use it on muggles.

"Legilimens" He whispered and looked right into the eyes on the man.

 **-Vernon's Memory-**

Vernon finished his meal and sighed to himself with satisfaction. While he hated the little freak, the boy made a delicious roast.

Perhaps he would make the boy cook it for him again tomorrow.

With a grunt, he got up from his seat and turned to the place he last left the boy.

"Boy! Clean up the kitchen!"

There was a pause. No "Yes Uncle Vernon" Like he was used to hearing after issuing his command.

"Freak!" He yelled once more, finding himself becoming irritated once more.

Wobbling over to the cupboard's entrance, he found the boy was still on the floor, sprawled out and unconscious. He even dirtied the clean hardwood floors with his putrid blood.

Slamming his foot into the boy's side, he yelled once more, only for the boy to remain un-moving.

He picked up the boy and slammed him up against the cupboard door, only for the child's body to sag and be unresponsive.

Vernon started to get a little worried. The boy wasn't moving and wasn't doing anything. Now that he took more attention to the boy, he could see that his skin was paler, lips were blue, and he was cold.

"Petunia!" He yelled out.

"What is it dear?" He heard from the kitchen.

"Come here! Quick!" His wife walked into the hallway next to the staircase and saw her husband holding the freak.

"What's going on? Did the freak do something again?"

"He's not moving."

Petunia sighed and walked up to the boy's body. She sneered as she checked him over, also noticing several things that her husband did. He eyes widened.

"He's not breathing." She whispered out. With no care, she jabbed her fingers into his neck and waited.

The tension grew and Vernon was worried. He knows he was angry and wanted to vent, but he didn't think he actually killed the boy this time.

The brat was important to those freaks, and they said how the boy protected them.

"There's no pulse." Petunia said fearfully.

"Mum! I want cake! Make the freak make one!" Dudley yelled from the kitchen, still eating his third plate.

"One moment Diddly Dums." She yelled back, not able to hold her fear back from her voice.

She turned to Vernon with fear and anger. "You just had to kill him didn't you?" Vernon scowled at her.

"It's not my fault, it's the freak's. I lost my job today and he's to blame. Probably used his freakishness to do it."

"Well, that's not the most important thing to worry about. We need to do something about this." Vernon grunted and looked at the boy's body once more. An idea popped into his head and he felt it was the best option.

"I know what to do." He said with a sinister grin.

 **-Vernon's Memory End-**

Dumbledore watched in agony as Vernon Dursley put Harry's destroyed and crippled body into his car. He drove off to the nearest river, tied the boy up in a garbage bag and threw him in without any care as the body bobbed down the current.

He saw enough. Too much in fact.

Pulling out of the man's mind, he looked at him in horror. "How could you...your own flesh and blood." Dumbledore looked like he aged 50 years right in that spot. His skin was pale, his appearance haggard and his eyes defeated.

"We didn't want him. You made us put up with him and that's what happened. It's not our fault that you gave us the freak in the first place!" Dumbledore found confetti shot in his face and a confused Vernon looking at him.

For a moment, Dumbledore wished he hadn't jinxed the gun.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Harry sat with McGonagall in the headmaster's office, enjoying the lesson that the teacher was giving him. He listened as the teacher explained the castle and how the school taught people how to use their magic. It was like a fairy tale and Harry was enraptured in it.

"Hogwarts has four houses, all of which have a certain quality about them and the students that are in them. The Hufflepuff house represents hard work and loyalty, Ravenclaws are studious and intelligent, the Slytherins are clever and sneaky, and Gryffindors like myself are brave and courageous. The houses all have their own rooms where only those students are allowed to enter, and most of the time the houses stay separate, like during meals or events." Harry shakily raised his hand. Minerva smiled at the ghost child.

"Yes Harry?"

"W-Why do they stay separate?"

"Well, most of the time, students like to stay with their friends who are in the same house. Making friends in other houses is a bit difficult because of the lack of time that they spend together."

Harry looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding it back. She could see he was biting his blue lips. "Harry, if you wish to say something, I will not stop you or hurt you in any way." Harry looked down at the floor, but spoke what he believed.

"Why do you separate the s-students because they're the same? Wouldn't you want them to make friends who are different?" Minerva was quite shocked by the answer, but Harry wasn't finished.

'M-My teacher taught us that if you make friends that are different, then you can u-understand them better and it helps when you need to do s-something that needs different skills. I-If I had a friend who was good in English and one who was g-good in math, then we c-could study to-together and all do well.

Like if you had Raveclaw with the Slytheries. You could have a smart friend and a sneaky one so you can work together."

Minerva was amazed. Harry Potter was so young, yet so much more open minded than almost everyone else in the wizarding world.

Having friends in different houses was very odd now, and those that were are constantly harassed by both sides. She hadn't seen a Slytherin and a Gryffindor be friends in years.

Lily and Severus.

Not only that, but Harry was so open-minded about the houses, thinking that everyone could be friends and that they were equal. While she tried not to show it much, she was a bit bias towards her lions. She was raised as one and as such had the mentality that they were better, even with her years of trying to squash that idea.

But this child. This ghost whose life was taken too soon. He was brilliant. Not only in his mind, but in his heart.

Separating students let them create clicks within their house. After they made them, they didn't open up much after that, which ruined many student's chances to have very good friendships with people in other houses.

Harry so innocent. His heart was so pure.

He shouldn't have died.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Severus Snape didn't know how to feel about all of this.

While Dumbledore might be checking in and making sure the boy was alive, Snape believed that it was truly Potter.

After all, for a ghost to walk into Hogwarts and claim to be Harry Potter was definitely strange. As he could see it, the child was not lying, as it was afraid to say its own name in fear of abuse.

Then there was the fact that it was a ghost to begin with. For a child to be a ghost meant that the child died to early and it's death was unfair and unwarranted. And the child had to be magical.

The boy was raised by his uncle, and most likely his aunt if logic proved right.

He knew exactly who Harry Potter's aunt was. That spiteful hag Petunia Dursley.

Lily's sister hated her and her 'freakishness' with a passion. She called Lily a freak, a monster. It hurt his childhood friends heart, and she often came to him in tears after the things her sister yelled at her.

And that boy, he said his name was freak. Petunia's favorite word.

It was easy for him to connect all the dots, he was a Slytherin after all.

Petunia married a man who hated magic just as much as if not more than her, and the two being in charge of a magical child spelled chaos, ergo, the death of Harry Potter. Death through extreme abuse from what it looks like.

Harry Potter was dead, never to live again.

But how did he feel about all of this. The son of his arch enemy and his love, staring at him with fear and transparent eyes.

James Potter, the most terrible wizard Snape had ever known, other than Voldemort. Immature, rude, brash, and a bully to heart. He made Snape's life hell. He ruined the friendship with the only positive person in his life.

He supposed that the man maybe deserved this after all the abuse he put other children through.

But Harry was Lily's too. Lily's son...dead.

His promise. The promise to protect her child, gone, failed.

He hated this feeling. The feeling of turmoil and confusion.

He stood up from his chair and walked out of the great hall, ignoring the protests from his fellow house of heads who were still swamped with questions from curious students.

He needed time. Time to think of the child of his love, now blue and unliving.

(End Chapter)

Cool! We get to see a bit of Snape's mentality and how he reacted to Harry's death.

Albus got to witness what Harry went through. Serves him right, but he's not gonna get off scott free for leaving a child with abusers.

I know it wasn't a very big chapter, but what do you want. Killing the MC is a hard story to write.

Anyway, if you like it, the follow.

Until maybe next time, see ya!


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